John's Birthday Surprise
by nothinghappenstome
Summary: It's John's first birthday away from the army, and he just wants Sherlock to come to the pub with him and a couple of friends, is that too much to ask? Second fic I've written, hope you enjoy


_S'up! New fanfic, the second one I've written. Enjoy, and please review if you have time! Thanks, Olivia~ _

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><p>"Sherlock, please. Just come down to the pub for a drink? It'll just be Bill, Lestrade, Sarah, Matt and Jamie. You know all of them, please?" John begged Sherlock, he just wanted to share his first birthday away from the army with Sherlock.<p>

"I'm not sure; I'm not good with people. Quoting you, I'm socially awkward and a bit not good around people." He shook his head again. John was hurt, He just wanted my best friend to be there, was that such a crime? Today had already been perfect, Sherlock had made John breakfast, eaten with him, cleaned the house, and given him a new jumper which John was currently wearing.

"Please Sherlock. You've made my birthday perfect, and it would be complete if you just came and had a drink. Please." John looked up at him with pleading eyes, straight into his grey eyes. Normally they show no emotion, but just then, just for a second, emotion fluttered in those eyes before disappearing.  
>"O-ok." John watched him turn around to grab his coat, and he pulled it on before turning back round to John with a smile on his face. In the heat of the moment, he hugged Sherlock tightly, and mumbled into his coat just loud enough for him to hear. "Thank you. You've made my birthday perfect."<br>A smile crossed Sherlock's face as he looked into John's eyes. He was close to letting his guard down, he was glad he made John's birthday perfect.

"Sherlock, you are drunk." It was late evening, Matt, Jamie and Bill had all returned home. Lestrade finished his last drink, and wished John a happy birthday before leaving.  
>"I am n-not drunk. When I'm drunk I get a thisp." He frowned. "A thlisp. A thlisp." John and Sarah started to laugh.<br>"I think you need to take him home John. Happy birthday again." Sarah smiled, kissed John lightly on the lips, gathered her coat and left.  
>"Jaawwwwn." Sherlock whined, fumbling for John's sleeve. It was now 11, and John was regretting convincing to go to the pub with him.<br>"Come on, home."

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><p>Getting Sherlock home was a hassle, he fell over at least five times. John dragged him upstairs, helped him out of his clothes and dressed him in loose pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. Sherlock folded his long legs underneath him, looked around the room and laughed, and fell backwards onto the bed.<br>"Johnny we're in your bedthroom." John frowned at just how drunk Sherlock was.  
>"I know it's closest to the bathroom. Sleep."<br>"Jawwn. I can't schlleeep." Sherlock moaned as he sat up, and wrapped his arms around John's waist. John looked down at Sherlock arms, and pushed them off.  
>"Sherlock, you're drunk." Sherlock frowned.<br>"You don't get it... I thove you."  
>"Sherlock, you're drunk. And anyway, you have no sexual interest, and I have a... Girlfriend. Sort of. Now go to sleep." John's heart still fluttered slightly, and almost wanted to believe Sherlock. But under the influence of alcohol, you can say things you don't mean.<p>

Sherlock sighed, and kept muttering about how he "thoved" John. John pushed him back onto the bed, made Sherlock close his eyes and he was out like a light. John quickly changed into pyjamas, smiled at how fun his birthday had been up until Sherlock had got totally drunk and collapsed into his armchair in the corner of the room. He didn't get to sleep easily; he just kept thinking about how many times Sherlock had said that he loved John. If only it were true... No wait. He stopped himself mid thought. What? He was pretty sure he was straight. Yes, he'd had a few flings at university and during the early days in the army, but was he still attracted to some men? More specifically, Sherlock?

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><p>The next morning, John awoke to the sound of Sherlock throwing up in the bathroom. He hurriedly forced himself awake, and knocked on the bathroom door, ignoring the fact that he had just dreamt that Sherlock kissed him.<p>

"Sherlock? Are you ok?"  
>"Leave me alone."<br>"Do you want any painkillers?"  
>"I said, PISS OFF." John frowned, and got the painkillers anyway.<br>"Sherlock, I'm coming in." The only reply he got was a grunt of approval from Sherlock. He handed Sherlock the glass of water and the painkillers and told him to drink.  
>"God, my bloody head hurts like hell." Sherlock frowned and rubbed his temples.<br>"Well yes, you did get drunk last night. Do you never drink alcohol?" John laughed at Sherlock, but stop laughing as he threw up once more.

"I never drink. Only on very rare occasions. Too addictive." Sherlock tried to stand up, but his legs were shaking and he fell, if it wasn't for John who was there to catch him, he would've fallen onto the floor.

Sherlock looked up from John's grasp and whispered  
>"Thanks. And... I'm sorry if I ruined your birthday." He looked away from John's gaze, but made no effort to move out of his arms that were supporting his weight. John smiled.<p>

"You could never ruin it, you made it perfect. How much do you remember of last night?" He half carried Sherlock to his bedroom, and got him sitting upright on the bed, his pillow supporting his back.  
>"Sarah kissed you goodnight, Lestrade laughed at my lisp. We came here... I said." A look of realisation dawned on his face.<br>"Oh shit. Don't tell me I said that..." John smirked at Sherlock, and smiled sweetly.  
>"Say what exactly?" Sherlock grimaced at his headache and at the fact John was teasing him.<br>"You know very well what I said."  
>"I do? You'd better refresh my memory." John sat on the edge of the bed and smiled once more, his innocent smile and looked directly into Sherlock's eyes. If he was right, the way the sun was shining on his face, the light should have made his eyes sparkle. Sherlock melted under John's gaze, falling in love with those sparkling blue eyes. He looked away as he said those three words, three words that were often the most important in the universe.<br>"I love you." Sherlock looked back at John's gaze, and saw him smile, his whole face turn into a smile including those blue sparkling eyes. He said it again.

"I love you. You found my heart from where I'd hidden it all those years, you found the key. You taught me what it is like to love someone, to need someone, to yearn after them. I locked it away, and then you came and picked it up and shoved it back into my chest. I love you." Sherlock looked at John, not realising everything he'd just said. His hand shot up to his mouth to cover it, almost to keep in any other secrets.

John smiled, leaned forward onto the bed and planted a quick kiss on Sherlock's forehead and whispered on his ear, "Tell me how much you love me when you're sober." He smiled at Sherlock's shocked expression, and quickly left the room. Sherlock got up clumsily, switched off the lights and closed the curtains, the light making his migraine worse. He collapsed on John's bed, breathing in his scent as he falls into blackness.

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><p>Sherlock woke up, in his own bed instead of John's. How did he get here? The evening sun was pouring into the room. He looked at the clock, the digital numbers on the screen flashed 5:23pm. It had been the longest that he's slept for a long time, probably hasn't slept that long since his childhood. There was no longer a dull ache in his head, was what happened last night real? How did he get here, how did he sleep so lo- Sherlock stopped himself mid thought. John gave him painkillers. Or "painkillers".<br>"John?" He called out croakily. He cleared his throat and called out again, bit loader this time.  
>"John? John, are you here?" He shut his eyes and opened them a few minutes later to find John leaning against the door frame. He looked at John and bluntly spoke.<br>"Did you give me sleeping drugs?" John frowned and walked towards the bed.  
>"I gave you one strong ibuprofen pill and one sleeping pill. I've had them since I left the army, if I wanted to e rid of nightmares. You needed sleep, and you would just object to the fact sleep helps hangovers."<p>

Sherlock smiled. "And you carried me here from your room as you thought I would feel more comfortable. Why do you care so much?" He mumbled the last sentence, half hoping John couldn't hear.  
>"I care because whether you or I like it or not, I am strangely drawn to you. Like a moth to a flame. You are just... You. And I think you need someone to care for you, and someone too... Too love you." John smiled and sat on Sherlock's bed, his legs over the edge of the bed and faced Sherlock.<p>

"John, John Hamish Watson. I meant everything I said this morning, and last night. You complete me and I love you more than words can ever explain. And I don't know why. I never thought I could... Love. But you changed that. I love you." Sherlock looked into John's eyes, to find them shining blue in the evening light. He looked away, and John gently placed his hand on top of Sherlock's, and entwined their fingers, pale against tan the match looked perfect.

Only John's whisper disturbed the calm and peaceful atmosphere. "I called it off with Sarah today. It wasn't until last night that I realised that I guess; well I guess I'm attracted to you. And Sarah was there to cover my feelings for you." He moved to lie next to Sherlock on the bed, and Sherlock wrapped his pale arm around his shoulder, gently caressing the scarred shoulder through John's thin t-shirt. He moved so that they were looking eye to eye. John didn't realise until just that moment how beautiful his eyes really were, grey with flecks of blue.

"John..." Sherlock murmured, barely raising his voice.  
>"Yes Sherlock?"<br>"Can you... I'm not sure how to ask."  
>"You don't need to ask." John turned his head to face Sherlock, gently caresses his cheek and cupped his face in his hand as he kisses Sherlock gently, sharing their first kiss together and almost causing time to freeze around them. John pulled back and placed his forehead against Sherlock's, closed his eyes as he whispered in a husky deep baritone.<br>"Are you sure of this?" John smiles, opened his eyes, and kissed Sherlock again, more romantically this time.  
>"Never been more sure of anything." He took Sherlock's pale hand in his hand, smiled, and gently tapped into Sherlock ear with his spare hand "I love you" in Morse code.<br>"I love you too." Sherlock whispered back as he pulled John in for another kiss, glad that even though he had had a hangover, he could finally call the one he loves his own.  
>"John Hamish Watson, you are mine. I'm never letting you go."<br>"Well you're in luck, because I'm not going anywhere." John smiled back at Sherlock, and moved his black curly hair out his eyes, gazing into his lovers sparkling grey eyes, filled with love and content.


End file.
